Of all the
Michael Bay films out there,
Armageddon is the Michael Bayest. Big noises, loud
explosions, rampant jingoism, and the end of the world
as popular entertainment . . . everything's here in
its proper place.

Of course, Armageddon also tries to sell us on
its characters and heart: a big mistake considering
that the heroes embody a loutish frat boy approach to
life and the central couple has about as much
chemistry as week-old fish.

Yet its punishing, resolute earnestness never wavers,
insisting that we take its scenario seriously by
painting it in the most overtly button-pushing terms
imaginable. Strangely enough, its unapologetic nature
actually serves as a selling point. Like so many Bay
films, you can't accuse it of false advertising, and
while its shortcomings are copious, its roller coaster
thrills prove surprisingly durable.

If you want to tear it down, of course, it doesn't
take much. Bay lacks even the most basic sense of
dramatic pacing; as his scenario unfolds, he hits his
audience as hard as he can and never stops. NASA spots
an asteroid the size of Texas on a collision course
with Earth, prompting shouted conversations of the
"get me the President" variety.

Bruce Willis and his
scruffy gang of oil drillers are summoned to blow the
rock up, evoking slow motion shots of men striding
purposefully across the tarmac. Dewy-eyed
Midwesterners stare hopefully at the sky as Old Glory
waves in the background, intercut with a few mosques
and Irish churches to remind us that other people in
the world may be marginally affected as well. And all
of this comes before the big explosions, dulling our
senses and leaving us utterly helpless before the
cacophony of sound and noise which constitutes the
final half of the film.

As goofy as the action plays, however, it feels like
Dostoyevsky when compared to the child-like efforts to
develop the characters at the center of it all. Willis
scuffles with protégé Ben Affleck over the latter's
love for daughter Liv Tyler, embracing every cliché of
the Well Meaning Father Who Just Doesn't Understand
school. The Tyler-Affeck romance is legendary for its
tin ear, highlighted by a "quiet" moment in a field
which Bay underscores with an Aerosmith power ballad
to make sure we catch the gist.

The film's unfortunate bouts of humor register just as
poorly (Steve Buscemi trots off with the choicest
morsels like a cat with a mouse in his teeth), and the
film's sneering swipes at Blue State targets like
Greenpeace feel supremely mean-spirited in their
casualness.

Furthermore, Armageddon
simply can't turn the volume down to save its life. As
the oil drillers shoot off in a modified space shuttle
to land on the asteroid, Bay pushes every threat to
the limits of dramatic conceit. The danger is
constantly world shattering, the obstacles requiring
superhuman efforts to overcome. Every time, our heroes
succeed by the thinnest of all possible margins,
screaming and pounding their way to a contrived escape
before the next overwhelming challenges come hurtling
their way.

There's nothing wrong with this - it's a summer action
film after all - but without any variation in tone,
the results become a hash. The big climax is
essentially identical to the dangers which arrived an
hour and half before it; you could swap the reels and
the movie would feel no different. Bay might have
gotten away with that had he not insisted on trying to
make us care, but tugging at our heart strings in the
midst of the hurricane borders on the insulting.

Yet for all of those problems, I have to note one
surprising bit of optimism: this film hasn't aged a
day. The visual effects in Armageddon remain
breathtakingly impressive, especially considering that
they emerged a full twelve years ago. (If
Avatar looks half
this good after half that time, it should get down on
its billion-dollar knees in gratitude.) Longevity has
merit, and as crude and as laughable as Armageddon
may be, its creator built it to last. Its stupidity
defies the reach of time, but so too does its mindless
popcorn appeal. That grants the proceedings a certain
shabby dignity, which Bay films wear like a cloak of
honor. Take it for what it is; it's all the likes of
Armageddon will give you.

THE DISC: At first glance, the Blu-Ray looks
like a slap-dash stab at a fast buck. No new cover, no
sexy documentaries, and a pitiful list of special
features limited to the film's original trailers and a
video for the Aerosmith song. That opinion changes the
minute you pop the film into the drive. Touchstone
orchestrated a gorgeous audio-video transfer,
sharpening the picture and rendering the sound in
stunning clarity. The onscreen menus are clever and
user friendly, allowing rapid scene searches and jumps
from chapter to chapter.

WORTH IT? Fans of the film have a reliable
product in the new Blu-Ray - a solid step up in visual
quality from the DVD - provided they don't need any
bells and whistles beyond the movie itself.

RECOMMENDATION: By now, you probably know what
you're in for with this movie. If you've seen it and
want to own it, the Blu-Ray is your horse. If you're
not a big fan, the Blu-Ray won't change your mind,
though the visual effects continue to impress over a
decade later.